Honey, I'm home!
by Tigercule
Summary: A series of challenge fics describing marriages between Armor of the Fifth Age Taric and various other characters. Currently contains Soraka, Swain, and a sword. Warnings vary by chapter, but there aren't many.
1. Soraka

**Author's Note: I don't own League or any of the characters.**

**This was started on tumblr, where there was a prompt floating around that went roughly, "Put 'Honey, I'm home!' in my inbox and I'll describe our marriage." Me being an overenthusiastic idiot, I wrote minifics. Some have different formats from when I felt like experimentation, but most are pretty standard. I'll mention any potential warnings ahead of time.**

* * *

The Soraka and Pink Taric marriage was an announcement that shocked the League. No one had ever expected Taric to settle down, and especially not with a female. The gayest man in the League and the Starchild? Everyone waited for a "haha, just kidding!" announcement, but it never came.

On the eve of their wedding, Soraka called Taric to her room. "You can always back out, you know." It was a tempting offer, but Taric's answer was cemented when she continued by saying, "No one will think less of you, and no one needs to know you'd be losing our bet."

With renewed determination, Taric answered, "No, Soraka. I *will* marry you, and I *will* win the bet." It was a bet he regretted making, but Taric was bound and determined to prove Soraka wrong now. He remembered those two days quite clearly….

~ Three Months Ago ~

The match was over; they had lost. Frustration was running high, and Taric should have known better than to stick around in the post-game lobby looking at the statistics.

"You're a terrible support!" It was Soraka; just the last person he wanted to see. "I should have gone bottom lane with Varus instead of you! Thanks for feeding, idiot. Why don't you just quit? Varus likes MY support better anyway!"

Normally, Taric ignored criticisms easily by redirecting his thoughts to gems, but Soraka had hit a nerve. "And what of you, Miss I'm-going-mid-to-feed-Sion? You didn't ever Wish for us or help the jungler when he ganked! And yourb team fighting? Atrocious! Besides, Varus likes me just fine."

Tempers were quickly reaching the boiling point, but neither Soraka nor Taric cared. The other champions were wise enough to leave before things got any uglier, but neither the gem knight nor the starchild would back down.

"You only think he likes you! Who could ever like a man who can't settle down?"

"I could settle down any time with any one!" Taric yelled indignantly.

"Hah!" Soraka let out a shriek of laughter, "You wouldn't last a year in marriage! I feel sorry for your boy toys; in a relationship with a man who could never get serious!" With that, Soraka turned on her heel and left the lobby, leaving Taric open-mouthed and staring.

It took twenty minutes before he was able to calm down and start formulating his revenge. Soraka would NOT get the last word.

~ Two Days Later ~

Soraka was eating her lunch in the crowded League cafeteria like any other day when Taric strode up to her. Finishing her bite of salad, she smirked at him, "Here to admit defeat?"

It was Taric's turn to smirk now, as he dropped to one knee and pulled a ring box from behind his back. The crowd fell silent as he asked loudly, "Soraka, will you marry me?" The resulting cacophony of voices was loud enough to be heard three rooms away, and easily masked Taric saying quietly to Soraka, "I told you I could do it. Turn me down; I win."

Soraka took a deep breath, looking from Taric's smug face to the exquisite ring he was presenting that he had obviously spent a lot of time crafting himself, then back to his smirk. Exhaling, she said loudly enough for the entire room to hear, "Taric, I WILL marry you," then leapt into his arms. Leaning into him to whisper into his ear, she added, "You won't win."

~ Present Day ~

"Honey, I'm home!" Soraka called, closing the door behind her. "Are you ready to quit yet?"

"Never! Are YOU ready to quit?" Taric answered, not leaving the kitchen.

"Not on my life!"

Every day went through the same routine. Taric and Soraka would wake up on opposite sides of their shared bed, fully clothed of course. Soraka would take the first shower while Taric prepared breakfast. They'd eat together in relative silence, ending the meal by each asking if the other was ready to quit and receiving a firm 'no.'

Soraka would leave for the Institute of War after breakfast while Taric cleaned up then took his own turn in the shower. Since Soraka was a more popular pick, Taric got to start his work days later and end them earlier. Some days they were on the same team; others, they were on opposite teams. After every match they would leave the lobby immediately, remembering all too well that day they hadn't. They would always eat lunch together in silence with Ashe and Tryndamere, then go their own ways to head back onto the Fields of Justice.

Taric would get home early and start working on dinner. When Soraka got home they would go through their usual exchange, then start talking about their days before eating dinner. They'd watch Soraka's choice of documentaries for several hours before changing to the Fashion Channel upon Taric's request for the rest of the night, then head to bed. Once in bed they would go through the same exchange every night before falling asleep as far apart physically as they could.

They were both determined not to be the first to cave in, and the marriage that was supposed to be limited to a year lasted far longer than that out of spiteful determination not to be the quitter.

Some say they grew to like each other, while others say they suffered a hate-marriage until the very end. Whatever the case, their marriage lasted to the grave.


	2. Swain

******Author's Note:**

**Shipping: Swain x Taric  
**

**Warnings: This contains borderline M-rated implied sexings (if you rate conservatively), so take that how you will.**

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" No sooner had the words left Jericho's mouth than there were three separate shrieks of joy. Not even ten seconds later, three blurs of color hit him square in the chest, knocking him over.

"We missed you Daddy!"

"Yeah!"

Being the man in charge of Noxus had its benefits, Swain reflected, not the least of which included the ability to force scientists to create children for his lover and himself through complex DNA combination. The three little angels sitting on his chest were a source of pure joy for him.

"Daddy, can you make Mommy let us practice magic more?"

"Yeah, Mommy's no fun! He won't let us torture the neighbor's cat!"

"Now now, children," Swain began, his headache already beginning as the irony of his previous thoughts set in, "torture shouldn't be taken lightly."

"But you did it! We know you did! It's in the history books and everything!"

Taric took that moment to make his entrance, clearing his throat loudly. "Kids, don't you have homework to be doing?" He held his hand up, stopping their protest as soon as they opened their mouths. "No buts. Go to your rooms and do your homework."

Scowling, the children stood up and headed to their rooms, leaving their fathers alone in the doorway of the house.

Jericho was the first to break the silence, "No butts? I never thought I'd hear that from you."

With a chuckle, Taric strode over to his husband, offering him a hand and helping him up. "You know quite well that the only butt I'm after nowadays is yours." He pulled the older man into a deep kiss, breaking it only when a timer went off in the kitchen. "That's the lasagna. I'd better go tend to that."

Dinner proceeded like usual with everyone discussing how their day had gone. Swain mentioned going to work, doing "things that are classified and you don't need to know," and that he had checked and their reservation at Party World was still on for that weekend provided the kids were done with their homework by then. The kids reported about their teachers, that they had finished their homework, and how they totally hadn't been trespassing on the neighbors' property despite whatever Mommy told him. Taric discussed the custom order for an ornate gem statue he had gotten, his further progress on the chandelier he was making for the ballroom in the mansion Swain had gotten for them that they had yet to furnish, and how the oven had been more cooperative than usual but could they PLEASE get it fixed one of these days? Eventually dinner ended, leaving Swain and Taric with the arduous task of putting the children to bed.

Finally, hours after Swain had gotten home, the two were left alone again as they slid under the sheets of their bed together.

Taric smiled at Swain warmly, cuddling up to him. "They're getting better at controlling their bird forms." As he spoke, his hands moved across Swain's body in ways he knew the man couldn't resist. "I almost didn't catch them today. They changed fast enough that the only signs were the residual feathers on the cat." He knew by Swain's reactions that the man was having trouble focusing on the conversation. Removing his hands and retreating to the other side of the bed, he suggested, "You should have a talk with them; they don't listen to me."

"Y-yes, I'll do that tomorrow." Swain answered distractedly, knowing from experience that agreeing with his lover was the only way to get what he wanted.

Taric smirked, loving how quickly he won. Was it cheating for him to do this to get his way? Probably, but he knew his lover enjoyed it. With that thought in mind, he returned to his partner's embrace before continuing with their usual nightly activities.


	3. Twilight Sword

**Author's Note: I felt like experimenting with a different format (which considering the subject manner I think is perfectly fine) and this pretty much wrote itself. The challenge for this fic was issued by an Original Character blog called Twilight Sword, so that's what's with the strange pairing. :3  
**

* * *

**To: **Sr. Summoner Arrand

**From: **League Psychiatrist Tigercule

**Subject: **The Gem Knight

Arrand, I hope this finds you well. My analysis of Taric's condition after much consultation is as follows (and this should make an excellent paper!):

_It is considered a natural occurrence for knights and warriors to grow attached to their weapons. The amount of times their lives rely on having that weapon act as an extension of their body has long been known to directly correlate to attachment. What is much more rare is for a man to grow attached to a weapon nearly used to kill him._

_It is well-known across the League that Taric was challenged to a duel for Ezreal's heart by an unknown swordsman (though as the months have gone on after, the story is getting more and more exaggerated). It is also well-known that Taric refused at first and was nearly slain because of his refusal (and that he cited Ezreal would never go for such a thing anyway, though time has turned the few lines of spiteful dialogue into a romantic monologue by now)._

_What's only slightly less well-known is that after he disabled the swordsman (revenge for getting dirt on his legwarmers says the popular account of the incident) and confiscated the sword, he brought it home and now practically worships it. At the various times I went to check in on him upon your recommendation, he was often talking to it or holding it in his arms like a person would hold a loved one. I have been invited to dinner with him where the sword (which he refers to as "my dear Twilight Sword") has its own seat at the table and a plate full of food._

_He takes it with him everywhere; even to matches where he leaves it in the lobby until the winner is determined. Once I overheard a champion (I don't remember who) jokingly ask him if he slept with the sword too to which he confirmed that he did._

_By all accounts, he treats the sword as a lover, rather than a weapon._

Despite how I would normally encourage an intervention, this "relationship" of sorts does not seem to be completely unhealthy for Taric (he seems happier than ever), and I have noticed the sexual harassment claims from various male members of the League with a certain pink gem knight involved have entirely stopped.

I request more time to continue my analysis.

Sincerely,

Tigercule

League Psychiatrist


	4. Renekton

**Author's Note:** Don't kill me til the end please. Then you can kill me.

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"We can't keep doing this, Ren," Taric said anxiously. Just as Renekton had promised, the room had a very romantic atmosphere, with rose petals scattered all over and the candle-lit table with a bottle of wine and a wrapped package on it.

"Sure we can, baby. We're MARRIED. The League has rules preventing it from interfering with married couples. Bedsides," the Butcher of the Sands paused for dramatic effect, winking at the Gem Knight, "you know you want this."

Taric glanced to the package on the table, then back to Renekton. After a moment, he sighed breathily, then nodded. "Yes, yes I do."

The crocodile grinned, licking his lips as he eyed Taric up and down. "You're ready, then?"

"More than ready; eager." There was a muffled, horrified shriek from the outside of the door, and the sounds of someone running away as fast as they could. Renekton and Taric exchanged glances, then burst into laughter.

"You think they'll ever stop being suspicious of us?" asked Taric.

"Not likely. A crocodile and a human-alien? Ridiculous. Especially considering the kitchens have found themselves missing raw meat every week or so since the honeymoon."

"Well then, I suppose we'll just have to keep the charade up." Taric said.

Renekton picked up the package from the table, handing it to the gem knight to unwrap. "Here. My half of the bargain."

Taric opened the box carefully, then gasped. "How do you get these?" he asked, awed at the quality of the gems. He had the potential to make gems that fine, but it took a lot out of him and was generally wasted resources - especially considering he now had a way of procuring them with minimal effort.

"Trade secret. The meat now, if you please."

"Two rooms down on the left. I couldn't transport it here because of the summoner following me around, but I guarantee it's all there in two refrigerated crates." Taric turned to leave, then asked on an afterthought, "Say, you want that wine?"

Renekton was already halfway down the hallway, leaving Taric with the wine, the gems, and the promise of more two weeks from then.

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**A/N: **This was technically supposed to be done over a month ago, but I just kept having the terrible mental image of Renekton in a romantic atmosphere and (only) alligator print underwear saying to Taric "Do me like one of your french boys ;)"

Eventually I modified the idea and ran with it because god damn my imagination sometimes gets caught on an idea and doesn't ever give me anything else.


End file.
